


Why?

by annilucy88



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emo, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspective Sev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annilucy88/pseuds/annilucy88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of fifth year and the Penseive, Harry asks Professor Snape a one word question, one that leaves Snape with more answers than he's prepared to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

> A short Harry Potter ficlet, written in my gloriously angsty teens. I was 16 when I first published this, I'd just finished reading OotP, and I wanted to throw out my own theory on why Snape had the relationship he did with Harry. Please note, this was written before books 6 and 7 came out, so any inconsistencies with canon are due to this. I've edited lightly for flow, spelling, etc. 'cause hey, I'm not 16 anymore, but the content remains the same.

_Why?_

One simple word, but so many meanings. He could have spoken a thousands hours of questions and accusations and lies and truths, but he still could not have said more than with that single word.

Why what?

Why did I become I death-eater?

That would be the most obvious one, yet I cannot see Potter wanting to know the answer.

I became a death-eater for power. You take power from a person, they will try to regain it through force. It's why the Dark Lord became what he is, or at least partly so. It's why so many abused children become abusive parents. I wanted the power over my oppressors the way they once had it over me. I wanted power over _him_. Sometimes, in moments of blind rage, I even wanted to force power over her.

It was never truly what I wanted, but still.

I never truly wanted to die, but there are still moments when that option does not seem so terrible after all.

That's why.

But that wasn't what you wanted to know, was it, Potter? No. Not all of it.

Why did I turn back? That one's simple.

I turned back because I'm not as evil as you seem to think I am.

You kick a dog, and it'll bite you. Does this make the beast a blood-thirsty threat to humanity? Of course not. I was biting in my own way. But I am not as blood thirsty as you seem to think.

But I don't think that was what you asked either, was it?

Why did your father and I hate each other?

He was arrogant. He was cocky. He was perfect and popular and he shone like gold. Everyone loved him. He was everything I wanted to be, everything _every_ child wants to be. And he made it look so simple, like he didn't even have to work for it. I've worked my entire life to be good at what I do. I have striven and tried and gone to extremes you cannot fathom for the knowledge I have now, and it has gotten me nowhere but on the receiving end of your fathers cruelty. Everything I tried to be amounted to nothing. I was just a weed struggling to grow in life's garden while James Potter, Wonder-boy, soaked up all the sun.

But that wasn't what you wanted to know either, was it?

You want to know, why do I hate _you_?

Maybe you think you already know that answer. Maybe you think I hate you for the same reason I hated your father. Maybe you even think I cannot tell the difference between you and him. But no. I am not the Mutt you call godfather. I can see you for who you are. I know you are your fathers son, not your father himself. I know you are not him. I even know you have suffered and struggled, and probably long for the sun as well. But it doesn't matter.

You look so much like your father, Harry. Except your eyes.

You have your mothers eyes.

You have probably heard this before, but your mother was not only very intelligent, and very gifted, but she was also incredibly kind. She had a habit of taking in the waifs and strays, much the same way as Albus did. I was one of them, for her and then for him. For three years, I was one of her friends. And she was the sun that shone on the garden purely for the weeds like I. She was what kept me going, she was what made me thrive. She seemed to know without me ever telling her what my father was like, she seemed to know, even then, why I tried so hard to reach perfection. She knew then, the way Albus does now, that I had no sunlight in my life before Hogwarts.

How can I describe what it feels like to grow up in the dark, in the cold, alone, and then to be brought out, and to bask in the sun for the first time in your life? May as well try to describe colour to a man born blind. You will never understand how much it hurt to loose that sun again.

And to none other than the Golden Boy himself.

You may have thought before now, Harry, that you knew why I hated you so. You may have thought that I hated you because your dad was just another of my tormentors. Well you were wrong.

I have seen the deepest forms of cruelty capable of mankind, and then some things I'm sure are capable only of one man. I have been victim to most of these cruelties, yet I have survived them all. I have felt the pull of suicide, I have felt the need to rip the very flesh from my bones to relieve myself of his mark. But I have felt something far worse. I have felt my heart break.

And every time I see you, every time I see your eyes…her eyes…his face, the evidence of what I lost...it breaks anew. 

It hurts too much not to hate you.

So maybe now, you're wondering why. Why, if it hurts so much for me to see you alive now, do I not simple stop saving your life.

That's simple too. She died.

I was a spy for Dumbledore when Voldemort first heard that damnable prophecy. I should have known, I should have told someone. I should have saved her life. But I didn't. I couldn't.

It was simpler to turn a blind eye, a deaf ear. It was simpler to let her die. Maybe I was even angry enough that I wanted it. And there is not a day that goes by that I don't regret it.

God, if you're there, if you care. Have mercy on my soul. I would do anything in my power to make amends.

You, Harry, are my redemption.

If I keep those eyes open, keep that spark behind it alive, than I can still save her.

You look so like your father. You _are_ so like your mother.

And I am going to save her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm no longer active in the Harry Potter fanfic world, if you'd like to change that please leave me a comment and let me know! Or if you want me to stay away from your precious JK Rowling Darling, hey, let me know that too, all feedback is welcome. 
> 
> If you're interested the original work can be found on my old Fanfiction.Net account, here's the link, please don't report me to myself for stealing my own work 'cause that'll be weird. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2277411/1/Why


End file.
